Telescoping Intensity
by princess-sunshine2003
Summary: Some mild graphics. Michele lost everything in the fire that consumed her life. Coming to Xavier's was the smart thing to do to heal her heart.


Telescoping Intensity  
  
Kurt was the first of them to see her. The locker next to his had been empty all year. Principal Kelly was not too thrilled about having to escort her around the school, and as much as he disliked Kurt- disliked any with mutant abilities- he was more than willing to foist the poor new girl off on anyone that presented him or herself.  
  
"Ah, Mr. Wagner!" the man exclaimed rather joyfully. "This is our new student, from Canada, Michele Madison. Miss Madison, this is Kurt Wagner. He will have to show you around for the remainder of the day." Without waiting for acquiescence, Kelly practically ran back to his office.  
  
Kurt found himself confronted with a pretty face he'd only seen in his dreams. Her hair was a golden brown color, shiny, and looked soft, falling just past her shoulders in gentle waves. Her eyes were a matching color, and they were both shy and piercing. She had a pert nose, and perfect lips. Kurt noticed offhand that she had a body to match her pretty face.  
  
Michele, in turn, was inspecting this boy she'd been dropped on. His hair was dark, a black so dark, it was nearly blue. His eyes were black, with an almost invisible sheen of yellow. He had a mouth made for big grins, and he was a few inches taller than she.  
  
Neither one held out a hand for the other to shake. Instead, Michele turned to the previously empty locker and opened it with ease. She shoved her two notebooks and three binders in, followed by a few pens and pencils, then turned round again, slamming the locker door shut. Kurt was at a loss for anything intelligent to say.  
  
Fortunately, he didn't have to. Just then, his best friend, almost an older brother, popped up behind him. "Hello," he said, impressed. He held a hand towards Michele. "I'm Scott, Scott Summers." Michele looked at his hand as though it were a snake and blushed, but didn't take it. After a moment, Scott pulled it back, nonplussed.  
  
"I'm Michele Madison," she replied, her voice musical, but laden with the shyness Kurt had detected in her gaze. Scott looked surprised. She studied Scott's face with the same hawk-like efficiency as she had Kurt's. Though opaque, red sunglasses hid his eyes, Scott's smile was friendly enough. His hair was dark auburn, nearly brown, and worn in messily short, giving him a boyish look despite his superior height and obvious neat, military manner. Scott shifted, a little intimidated by her stare. She smiled warmly, less shy this time. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to stare. I've just never seen sunglasses of that particular color. Most are dark blue or brown." She offered Kurt a nod and turned to go. He put out a hand to stop her and came within a centimeter of her shoulder before she whirled and jerked away from him. He looked surprised.  
  
"I'm supposed to show you around," he said, a little haltingly. She grinned to cover her odd reaction.  
  
"I'm only going to the ladies room. I know where that is, at least." He nodded, embarrassed.  
  
After she'd gone into the bathroom, Kurt heaved a sigh of admiration, causing Scott to look at him sideways, with a little quirky grin. "Forget it, dude. She's way out of your league; girl's got class. Not to mention, she obviously has some serious personal contact issues." Kurt just stared at the bathroom door and shook his head as Scott shouldered his bag and went to class.  
  
A minute later, Michele emerged, her purse crossing her chest to hang at her hip, a smile on her face. Kurt slammed his locker shut and shrugged, trying to forget what Scott had said. It wasn't hard with her beaming at him like that. Of course, that made it rather difficult to form a coherent thought. "So, um, vhere is your class?" he asked, his German accent playing more heavily into his speech now. "It's almost zhe lunch period, but zhere is still a class now."  
  
Michele pulled her schedule from the purse and looked at it, analyzing the map on the bottom half of the page. "You know," she said sweetly, "they printed this map upside down on my schedule." She flipped the whole thing over. "Oh, I'm no good with maps anyway." She refolded it and put it back in her purse. "My first class in on the second floor, room 33B." Kurt nodded and winced as the tardy bell rang.  
  
"Late again!" he muttered. He started walking, and motioned for Michele to come with him. "Zhe maps don't help," he said to her. "Zhey only confuse, especially vhen zhey are printed wrong." He motioned to a door. "Zhat is zhe theater room. Zhe gym is zhere, vith zhe locker rooms on eizher side. Your class is at zhe top of zheze stairs. Mine is right here. I'll wait for you at zhe bottom after class." He waited until she'd climbed the stairs and entered the room before going into his own classroom, his excuse all ready.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~~  
  
Michele was very conscious of the twenty pairs of eyes staring at her back. She sat as low in her seat as she could get without sitting on the floor, and still, the stares were relentless. Amazingly, the stares on her back were harder to ignore than the stares and outright leers she'd gotten upon entrance and introduction to the class. She'd received a number of papers telling her the supplies she would need for this class, Human Anatomy. She would have to go check out all the textbooks at lunch.  
  
She tuned back into the teacher's speech in time to hear something that she knew to be false. "Asthma is just such a lung disease. It hurts volume of exhaled air, and- yes, Miss Madison?" The acidic tone of the woman's voice didn't penetrate Michele's mind.  
  
"I apologize for interrupting, but that is incorrect. It is not the expiratory reserve volume that is affected, but the inspiratory reserve volume. Asthmatics have trouble breathing in, not out." Michele stopped. The teacher's glare was one that could strip paint, but it had little effect on Michele who knew she was in the right.  
  
"I see. I misspoke. Where did you learn this?"  
  
"My family has a medical history of asthma. I found it beneficial to know what asthma was." The answer was simple and quiet. Both of Michele's parents had been severe cases of asthma. Her brother and younger sister had the disease as well.  
  
"I see. Thank you for correcting my mistake. It would not do for you to have the wrong information. Now, continuing on..." Michele proceeded to tune her out once more. She knew she would never achieve teacher's pet status with this woman, and that comforted her. She was sick of being perfect, having perfect control, perfect manners, perfect appearance.  
  
The teacher babbled on about total lung volume and how to effectively calculate it for the better part of the next half hour. When the bell finally rang signaling the end on the class, Michele sighed quietly in abject relief. She was one of the last ones out of the class, owing to the several people who pressed towards her, offering their hands or their names or both. She finally managed to squeeze out the door, only three people ahead of the last.  
  
She saw Kurt's eyes drift over her shoulder and widen in shock. When his mouth opened to warn her, she ducked and rolled, tumbling down the stairs with grace and precision, landing on her feet next to Kurt. A body, a boy's body, rolled clumsily to a halt just in front of her, overbalanced by her ducking out of the way of his grab.  
  
"My mother always told me never to play on the stairs," she informed him coolly, prodding him with her toe. He rolled to look up at her and the papers exploded from her hands. "You!" she exclaimed. "What on earth are you doing here!?"  
  
"I live here," he replied, flicking his eyes between Kurt and Michele.  
  
"Todd...!" she muttered. "You always were subtle," she said sarcastically.  
  
"You know him?" Kurt asked, a little surprised. "Todd Tolansky?"  
  
"He's my cousin, on my father's side. I always knew he was a moron, but never a mutant. Of course, his slimy tongue should've given it away years ago." She didn't offer him a hand up, but he didn't need it.  
  
"Maybe you should come hang out with me and my crowd, stead of this gecko and his band of rejects," Todd said, flipping his tongue at Kurt, who looked ready to grab it and yank, hard. "We'll teach you about bein cool around here." Michele smiled, but turned away.  
  
"You already know the answer to that." She paused and her eyes twinkled merrily as she looked at Kurt. "Besides, better to be in the company of a gecko that a slimy toad." Kurt laughed heartily at that and followed her, leaving Todd sitting at the bottom of the stares, glaring after them.  
  
They were still laughing when Kurt led her to a table already full of people. It was crowded, and Michele halted a few steps away. Kurt stopped right next to Scott who slapped him a high five. "Michele, zheze are my friends. Zhis is Michele, everyone." Michele noticed more boys than girls at the table and smiled weakly, taking only one step forward.  
  
With each introduction came a quick, penetrating gaze from Michele. Jean Grey was a pretty redhead of average height with grey eyes that were constantly fixed on Scott's face, who sat next to her, holding her hand on top of the table. Evan Daniels had coffee and cream skin with blond hair and dark chocolate eyes. Kitty Pryde was a skinny freshman with short brown hair and grey eyes. The girl introduced only as Rogue was the most interesting. She had short brown hair with a white stripe that framed her face on each side. Her eyes were an indistinguishable color. She was also the only one covered shoulders to feet in clothing. This in itself was odd, because the temperature outside was in the high eighties. Sam Guthrie was blond and tan with blue eyes that sent several appreciative glances her way. Alex Masters sat on Scott's other side, blond, but sharing Scott's facial features. His eyes were green. Michele felt something bubbling inside her brain and started to back away. Kurt made a grab for her hand, oblivious to her distress, but she evaded him.  
  
"Excuse me," she said politely. "I have things to do. I need several textbooks from the library..." She trailed off and turned to go back into the school.  
  
Go after her, Scott mouthed to Kurt. He was about the run to catch up when he saw her stop to talk to Todd Tolansky and his friends. With narrowed eyes, he noticed that all four of the teenage Brotherhood seemed extremely interested in her. Lance Alvers said something, and she laughed. Pietro was next, and she smiled and nodded. She gifted them with a wave before continuing into the school building.  
  
Kurt easily caught up to her inside. She smiled at him but didn't say anything and they walked to the library. She quickly got the four textbooks she needed and Kurt helped her carry them to her locker. She shoved them in and shut the door, spinning the lock. He tried to lead her back outside, but she balked at the door.  
  
"Vhat is wrong?" he asked, letting the door swing shut. She shook her head.  
  
"I just have a little trouble with crowds," she replied. "They scare me a bit."  
  
He nodded his understanding. "Zhat's fine. Ve... my friends and I, ve understand zhat. Rogue has problems in crowds also." Michele smiled. She seemed to do that a lot, and Kurt felt himself blush even as his lips stretched into a grin. "Vhat class do you have next?" he asked.  
  
"I have a two fist floor classes left and then I have no class the last period of the day. My guardian asked me to come to his house then to get settled. I spent most of this morning making sure my little sister was settled in fine at my aunt's, so I never got a chance to visit my guardian's house."  
  
"Your guardian?"  
  
"He's really my godfather. My father's best friend. They were in the Vietnam War together. My father saved his life when he stepped near a land mine and was paralyzed. The explosion damaged his spine." She stopped. Lunch was nearly over, and Kurt hadn't yet eaten, owing to his chasing after her all period. "Aren't you hungry?" she asked. "You've been a great help, but right now, I don't need help. You should go eat lunch with your friends."  
  
"Are you sure?"  
  
"I'll be fine. I'll meet you by my locker after the lunch period is over, okay?"  
  
"Okay!" He zoomed through the door and Michele frowned. He'd almost touched her twice today. Who knew, maybe she wouldn't feel him as she had so many others. She only knew that she didn't want to chance it at school. The pain of someone else's most painful memories was enough to make her scream, and the purging process was enough to knock her out sometimes. Her own painful memories were bad enough  
  
Suffocating...fear prompted the typical response from her, and the fire froze in place. She dragged Betony from her crib and outside to the cool lawn across the street. Her little brother came next, pulled from his race car bed to join his baby sister curled up on the lawn across the street draped in a blanket pulled from said bed. Jennifer was next, but she was so far gone with smoke inhalation that her older, taller, and heavier body was dead weight. And three hours later, that's just what she was- dead. The flames were still frozen, fueled by Michele's fear. Mommy and Daddy were in their room, on the big bed that could hold all six members of the family and the two cats. Mommy was dead- her asthma combined with the inhalation of smoke had stopped her breathing before Michele had frozen the flames. Daddy was almost dead, hanging on to see if his children could get out. "They're okay, Daddy. I got them out," she said softly, tears creating clean streaks in the ash and soot and grime coating her face. She watched him die and picked up the kitten, Marshmallow, cradling her in the crook of one arm, while Toby, the tabby tomcat jumped from the end of the bed to her shoulder, trying not to scratch her with his terror sharpened claws. Michele stumbled from the house one more time, the flames starting up again as she cleared the door.  
  
She gasped, shoving the memory back as hard as she could. Her parents were dead, her older sister was dead, and her little brother was in the hospital, in a coma, hooked to an oxygen machine. Little Betony was the only one not affected by the fire. The same curly-haired, bright-eyed, happy child she'd been before the fire. Michele fought back tears as she struggled to come to terms with her parents' deaths even now, two months later.  
  
She opened her locker and stared at its blank walls. At her old school, in Montrèal, there hadn't been even a small speck of the locker's metal wall visible, so many pictures covered it. The blank walls mocked her, telling her that she'd failed. The slate was clean now, for her to start over, and she had nothing to start over with because she'd let it all die in the flames.  
  
Frowning, she decided to thwart this metal tormentor. She reached into her purse and pulled out a picture of baby Betony and stuck it to the inside of the locker door. "I am strong enough to do this," she hissed. "I won't let it rule me any more." She pulled out the book she had borrowed from her aunt that morning and shut the door. She slid to the floor with her back to the lockers and opened the paperback.  
  
She had read barely a page when several shadows blocked her light. She looked up, a scowl on her face that quickly relaxed. "Oh, it's you."  
  
Lance and Pietro each claimed a side of her and they slid to the floor next to her. "What're you reading?" Pietro asked, glancing at the cover of the book. "Ah, a fantasy. That has to be one of my favorites, you know."  
  
"No, I didn't," she replied, marking her page and shutting it. "So, what did you want?"  
  
"Just to converse. And to offer an invitation. We're having a party two weeks from Friday, at our house. We'd like you to come." Lance was nodding his agreement.  
  
"I don't know. I'm still getting used to the idea of not being in Canada. I haven't even been to my new house yet. My godfather wanted me to take a week or so to get adjusted, and I don't know his rules. I'll try though. I...think it'll be okay."  
  
"Great! We'll get you a map tomorrow or something." Neither made a move to get up, even when the bell rang.  
  
"Was there something else?" she asked, climbing to her feet. Both popped right up.  
  
"No..."  
  
"Thanks for the invite. I'll run it by my godfather, and I'll let you know tomorrow." Pietro pulled a pencil and a scrap of paper out of his pocket and scrawled something. He handed it to her.  
  
"Here's our number. Give us a call if you're not too busy unpacking or anything." He and Lance were disappearing around a corner just as Kurt and Evan strolled up to her.  
  
"Ready for your next class?"  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
The rest of the school day passed in a reluctant blur for Michele. Towards the end of her last class, Art History, she started to feel a tension headache beginning in her shoulders. When the bell rang, she flew from the room, glad that her day, at least, was over. Kurt met her at their lockers as he transferred books.  
  
"I'll see you tomorrow, then," he said with a small smile. She nodded.  
  
"Thanks for your help today, Kurt," she said. "You were wonderful." They traded waves as Michele trotted out to the front of the school. Her godfather's Rolls was waiting. "Uncle Charles!" she called, waving. The bald man returned the wave and pushed open one of the rear doors.  
  
"It's good to see you, Michele," he said, hugging her gently. She never got memories off Charles Xavier- his telepathy was strong enough to spare her the torment. "How is dear little Betony?"  
  
"Happy. She was too little to be affected by the fire the way Jake and I were."  
  
"You'll be happy to know that I'm having Jake transferred to the house. We have medical facilities more advanced than those of a government sponsored hospital. We have to, for all the trouble our boarders get into."  
  
"Will I meet them tonight?"  
  
"Yes, you will. After school. I wouldn't be surprised if you'd met some of them already." He paused, not reading her, but pretty close. "You didn't touch anyone, did you?"  
  
"No. My student guide came close twice, and I ran into Todd, but no one really touched me." Charles patted her leg as the car drove up a tree- lined street to the impressive gates that shielded the Xavier mansion from the street. "I always did love your house," Michele said. "My stuff is here, isn't it?"  
  
"I had Storm and Logan put it in your room."  
  
"The same one?"  
  
"I couldn't very well give it to someone else, now could I?" he teased. The first time Michele had visited his house, when her mother went to the hospital to have Jake, the third baby, Jennifer and Michele were sent to live with Michele's godfather in Bayville, New York. Michele had been nearly six, but she had run through the massive house as though she were two again, delighted by the sheer size of it. Xavier had let each girl choose a room to sleep in. Michele had chosen a small, cozy one, just slightly larger than the tiny room she'd had in Canada. The bed was part of the window seat, large enough for a person about six feet tall to sleep in. Bookshelves lined the wall that held the window, and a simple wooden dresser had been placed near the door. The closet was big enough to hide in, and Logan had done a good job of hanging up her clothes. The rest was for her because they reasoned that she would have her own placement of her own things.  
  
Her books were the first thing she attacked. In Canada, she hadn't had as much book space, so when she had visited, Xavier had surprised her several times with the books that she loved, letting her keep them here when she went home. As a result, she almost had too many books to fit. However, she also knew that some copies were doubles because her parents' gifts for Christmas and her godfather's gifts for the same holiday matched. So she refilled a whole box with doubles, figuring that one of the other boarders might want them.  
  
She had reached the stage in which she was unpacking her pictures from their box when she first heard the voices of the returning students. She resolved to finish the box before going downstairs.  
  
When the last frame was set just so on her dresser, she felt Xavier's powerful presence in her mind. They are anxious to meet you, Michele, he relayed. She smiled inwardly and opened her bedroom door, glancing back once more at the disarray that was her new home. She hefted the box of books and headed down the stairs. She heard the voices coming from the study and turned that way when the box was tugged from her hands. She looked up into Logan's sometimes-frightening gaze and grinned. He had never scared her, even when she was little.  
  
"Extras?" he asked in his customary rough growl.  
  
"You might say that," she said as they walked down the hall together. "Mom and Dad had the same ideas for presents as Uncle Charles sometimes. So I have double copies of some books." Conversation had stopped before they reached the door and as she put her hand up to push on it, she heard Kurt's voice.  
  
"Is zhat... it can't be."  
  
"Kurt?" she asked, knowing full well what she was going to find. She shoved the door open. Logan set down the box near the door and gave her a gentle push into the room. "You all didn't... I mean, no one ever said... I didn't know you all lived here too." She glared accusingly at her godfather. "You knew!" she accused. "You read me, and you didn't say anything!" The smile on his face was enough to convince her.  
  
"He is your godfazher?" Kurt asked. Michele nodded dumbly, still surprised. Her eyes scanned the room. Scott, Jean, Alex, Sam, Kitty, Evan, Rogue, Kurt, and a few others that she hadn't met were all present. Kurt held out a hand to draw her into the group, but she held herself away and shot a glance at Xavier.  
  
"It's all right, my dear." Hesitantly, she held out her hand, letting him take it. Her eyes rolled up in her head for a moment, then she opened them again. She blinked and smiled, manipulating her thumb so it brushed across the activator button of his image inducer watch. His appearance fizzled a moment, then he reappeared.  
  
Kurt's face and neck were blue and covered with short, soft fur. He had ears that pointed at the tips and blue hair. His eyes were a soft yet wild yellow. He had a forked, prehensile tail. "I thought so," she remarked. Then she looked at his hand, holding hers. She saw that he only had three fingers. What happened then caused her to collapse. She physically registered his arms catching her and holding her upright, but the vision playing across her mind drowned out all other physical or mental occurrences.  
  
It was her room. It had been since the deaths of her parents and older sister almost six years before. The bed, originally housing one, now held two, and the room itself held the possessions of two people, though it was somewhat ill suited to do so. The bed at the window was occupied, and the drapes were open, showing that dawn was yet an hour away. The pillows were empty, save for one blue, three-fingered hand, but the blankets were pulled up to them. A smaller, tan hand with five fingers crawled slowly up the blue wrist until it twined itself with the blue fingers. One of the smaller fingers bore a ring. The blankets moved and were pushed back slightly to reveal two heads, both belonging to young people. The blue hand belonged to a young man with matching hair, and the small tan hand belonged to a young woman with long brown hair. She was asleep, but the blue man was awake, his yellow eyes glowing faintly as he watched the woman sleep. He lifted his other hand and traced it down her face, over her cheek and across her chin, feeling the tiny scar across the cheekbone from three years earlier, just two months before their wedding. She wore a thin cotton camisole over a pair of thin sleeping pants. He wore just sleeping pants, leaving his chest and shoulders bare. In her sleep, she mumbled something and twisted to cuddle closer to the furry chest. His arm slipped from her face to her waist, pulling her snug against him. She sighed in contentment as he brushed his hand down her back, the love in his eyes reflected by her peaceful face.  
  
The breath she drew was agony, but she drew it. Physical sensation was returning, as were her scattered thoughts. Her muscle control and coordination was next. She drew another gasping breath and opened her eyes. They darted from one worried face to the next, finally looking straight up into eyes identical to those in her vision.  
  
"Michele...?" asked Xavier, worried about her reaction to Kurt's touch. Her physical reactions had never been so violent before, though this one came close to the reaction she'd had upon first meeting Logan four years before, just after her powers had first manifested. Logan himself looked worried, remembering the day he'd met the munchkin, on her thirteenth birthday.  
  
Michele was content for the moment, however, to merely lie limp in Kurt's arms, both savoring the vision and trying to analyze it. She could not alter time or space, but she had been gifted with the ability to sometimes see back in time, though it was only exactly relevant to a person she touched. Never had she been able to see the future. At least not previously. The babble of worried voices was giving her a monster headache. She pushed gently against Kurt and he helped her sit.  
  
"The good thing is," she said softly, silencing everyone instantly. "The good thing is that this will never happen again. At least not with Kurt." She looked at him. "I'm sorry. Now you see why I was so paranoid about letting you touch me at school today. Your painful memories are in here, in my head. That happens sometimes. Logan did that to me too. Not very many people have done it, but those with a particularly painful past sometimes lay me out." She yawned. "Of course, it never happens in the case of some people. If it doesn't happen at first contact, it never will." She stared at her godfather, begging him not to read her. She wanted to purge the memories, but not the vision. She wanted to know what it meant. But the memories were like acid, driving emotional trauma into her own brain. Tears filled her eyes, and she valiantly tried to hide them by dropping her face into her hands.  
  
"Vas is das?" Kurt asked gently in German, pulling the hands away. "Are you crying? Vhy?" He knew why. She was reliving all of his pain from his life, being taunted for being different, being persecuted, hated, feared. And she was living it all instantaneously, combined, which made the pain more intense. "I am happy now. The pain is a thing of the past." Still, she struggled to hold onto the pain, anger, hatred, trying to keep it locked up as it swelled under her bubble of control.  
  
"Everyone, get out," demanded Xavier, realizing what was going to happen when her control was shredded by pain not hers. "Now!"  
  
"I'm...sorry...can't...hold it...!" With a pop, the windows exploded outwards, spraying shards of glass and wood onto the lawn. With a breath that was more a sigh, Michele pulled her knees to her chest and buried her face in them. Xavier stared at her, surprised. Her control had grown much more localized. She should had exploded the entire room, and instead, only the windows were damaged. She had kept them from harm without harming herself in the process. He could see it in the lines of her body that the pain had receded with her small outburst. It still left him curious as to why she didn't purge the memories in the first place, as she had with Logan.  
  
He wheeled himself over and touched her shoulder gently. She flopped over, asleep, her arms sprawling away. He smiled and shook his head. "This is not the meeting I would have liked for all of you. Logan, can you take her upstairs, please?"  
  
"Sure thing, Charles," he said, lifting her into his arms. "Good thing this doesn't happen often."  
  
"Yes, good thing indeed. Usually, she purges the memories, and they don't cause her to use the destructive side of her powers. But she didn't this time, and I want to know why." Kurt interrupted, his eyes glazed and tired.  
  
"Maybe she saw something, Professor, zhat she didn't want to purge," he said. "She vouldn't have known if it vould disappear once she killed zhe memories." He reignited his holowatch and shrugged. Xavier tapped his chin in thought and smiled.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Michele didn't stir until Logan had set her down on her bed, the only free space currently available in the mess of moving in. She mumbled something about the future, then rolled over and settled again. He pulled off her shoes and socks, just like he'd been doing every time she visited for four years. As far as he was concerned, she was just another cub that needed his protection. He gently brushed her hair back from her face and left.  
  
Kurt waited until Logan had gone back down the stairs before he teleported into Michele's room. The vision played before his eyes as he watched her sleep. Her room was a mess, but he found space on a box and sat, determined not to move until she woke up.  
  
That she had had the vision was an accident, he knew. That he had shared in it, that was unheard of. That he enjoyed the vision, that was a given. He rested his chin on his hand and stared out the window. His tail swished back and forth. She had cried for him, she knew how hurt he'd been being different, and that had hurt her, even though he was over it, and they were barely acquainted. He titled his head when her breathing changed. It seemed to catch in her throat, then it sped up slightly. He watched her, holding himself very still. Her breathing returned to normal. He let his tail go back to its swishing and winced as it struck a nearby box.  
  
He was still growing, obviously. His tail alone had shot out almost half a foot in the last three months, and he'd grown nearly six inches since arriving at the Xavier Institute two years ago. He was nearing full adult size, which was good, but even at seventeen, he felt awkward in his own skin, especially with girls. He didn't know a girl who was truly comfortable with his real appearance, not even his old girlfriend. But Michele didn't seem to mind. She had seen what he looked like and had wanted to see for herself, unveiling him without being afraid or repulsed, or even disgusted.  
  
He blinked and looked at the bed again. Michele was sitting up and staring at him. "You've been looking at me for a good long while," she said. "Of course, part of that is my fault. I know that the vision was... powerful, to say the least."  
  
"Intoxicating. Beautiful. Zhose two people seemed very much in love," he said. She smiled.  
  
"They did. But the future isn't fixed, you know. Every choice changes it just a little. It might have been a dream, or a fantasy." Here she blushed scarlet. She'd had a dream of this sort before. Blue fuzzy was always in it. Never showing the depth of love that was in the vision, but she'd had dreams like it since she was little. "I wonder...hey, Kurt. Have you ever had a dream that powerful before?"  
  
"Not vhile I am awake. But vonce, vhile I vas asleep. I had a dream like that. I vas at a vedding. No, in a vedding. I vas the groom. I couldn't see zhe bride's face- she vore a veil. But I remember zhat I vas in love vith her. She vas normal looking, and she saw my blue fuzziness, and she loved it." He stopped and looked at her, her brown hair disheveled. Then it struck him. "Ve have met before. Last summer, vhen you came to stay vith zhe Professor. Me and Storm vere zhe only vones left because all zhe others vere at survival camp."  
  
"It took me a moment, at school, when Principal Kelly introduced you as Kurt Wagner, instead of Vahgner. But I recognized you. Or, really, I thought you looked familiar."  
  
"Zhat's right! But you didn't say anyzing..."  
  
"I didn't realize that you didn't recognize me, until earlier. But I was so different last summer, too. I grew a bit during the year."  
  
"You didn't come zhis summer."  
  
"Well, we had a vacation at the beginning of the summer, and...there was the fire in August." She choked. "I didn't feel like doing much afterwards." He nodded, his tail curling itself around her lamp. "I barely recognized you at school today because you spent so little of your time that summer wearing your hologram. It just didn't click in my mind until you spoke. I didn't know about any of the others, except Scott. He's been here the longest."  
  
Kurt's stomach rumbled insistently, causing Michele to laugh and Kurt to blush. "Hungry?" she asked with a raised eyebrow. She checked the clock. "It is nearly time to eat." She swung her legs over the side of the bed and stood. They left the room, chatting quietly about the summer and all the things at school that she needed to watch out for. They reached the dining room all too soon.  
  
The huge table was built for twenty-two. Xavier and Storm occupied the ends while the fourteen other students and two other adults sat along the sides. Two extra seats awaited each side. Kurt's normal spot was one down from Logan, which left the open seat next to Logan to Michele. The meal was already in progress, so they just passed food to each other.  
  
"Can I have the bread, please, Logan," Michele asked. He passed them to her with a smile and shot a pointed look at Kurt over her head.  
  
"Lovely manners, asking for it to be passed." Kurt made a face but said nothing.  
  
"Uncle Charles, when will I be able to see Jake?"  
  
"I'm having him transferred here tomorrow. You can see him after school." She nodded and took another bite. She carefully phrased her next question.  
  
"What...ahem. What are the rules about going out?" Kurt choked on his peas, but said nothing. Xavier raised an amused eyebrow. "I mean, like on the weekends and such."  
  
"Well, you have most of the freedoms here that you had at your parents' house. The differences lie in your responsibilities. We expect you to train your powers and improve your control, like the rest, in addition to your schoolwork. After that, you are free to do what you want. Within reason," he amended.  
  
"Good," she said casually. "Because there's a party in a couple of weeks, and I wanted to make sure it was okay if I went." Kurt choked again, this time spraying milk across the table at Bobby, who glared at him before wiping his face with a napkin. Now everyone was looking at her.  
  
"A party?" Evan asked finally. "Who's having a party? Why weren't we invited?"  
  
"Yes. At least, I think Pietro said it was two weeks." It was Evan's turn to choke on his food.  
  
"Pietro Maximoff? That stupid... sorry, Professor."  
  
Now Michele was confused. "Yes," she said slowly. "He and Lance invited me to their party. Why? Is it a problem if I go?"  
  
"YES!" shouted Evan and Kurt at the same time Logan growled "No." Michele started to grin, an idea forming in her head. She giggled.  
  
"A rivalry," she said simply. "I should've known." She looked at Xavier. "May I be excused, please?" He nodded. She bowed her head and said a quick prayer before getting up. "May I also use the phone, please?" Again, the nod. She carried her dishes to the kitchen, and the sink, rinsing them and loading them into the dishwasher before crossing the room to the phone mounted on the wall.  
  
The first number she dialed was her aunt's. She wanted to talk to Betony, even though the two year-old wasn't exactly a skilled conversationalist. "Hi, Auntie. It's me. Is Bet there?" She waited for her sister to come to the phone. "Hi, baby. Are you having fun? (pause: Mickie say bye-bye. Bet'ny play day long. Wanna come Jake see?) No, sweetheart. I just wanted to check up on you. Are you being a good girl? (pause: Mickie say good girl. Good I.) Good girl. I'll come see you in a couple of weekends, okay? (pause: tree? See tree you?) That's right, Bet. There are lots of trees in Bayville. Ask Auntie to help you count them. Bye, baby. I love you. (pause: Bye-bye. I love you.)" She hung up the phone, glad her sister at least was enjoying herself. For her second call, she pulled out the slip of paper that Pietro had given her.  
  
He answered the phone. "Hello? (pause: Hello, this is Pietro.) Hi, Pietro, this is Michele."  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Pietro stared at the phone, his superhuman speed failing him for the first time. He quickly covered the mouthpiece and hissed at his roomies to shut up. He then put her on speakerphone so they could all hear.  
  
"Hey, Michele. How are you doing?"  
  
"Oh, I'm all right. I just finished dinner, and I asked my godfather about the party. He said it was all right for me to come." A hint of a giggle entered her voice. "The others weren't too happy about it, but Logan thinks it's funny."  
  
"What others?" Lance blurted before he could be stopped.  
  
"The others that live here. Evan and Kurt both choked on their food when I suggested it, and Kurt spit milk all over one of the other boys." In the background, very faintly, Kurt's voice could be heard saying, "Oh, yes, and you just had to tell zhem zhat." Michele laughed. "So, anyway, I was just calling to tell you that it's all right with my godfather. Just get me a map, give me a time, and I'll be there."  
  
Pietro and Lance looked at each other, each thinking hard. Pietro finally spoke up. "Okay. We'll give you those tomorrow at school."  
  
"All right. I'll see you at school tomorrow."  
  
"See you," Lance said. Pietro hung up the phone.  
  
"We are going to have to plan a party in two weeks, and clean up this mess, too. I'm not going to have her over here and see this." He started to zoom around the room, picking things up and straightening the pictures and furniture. "There's so much to do!"  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~~  
  
Kurt glared at Michele, and she glared right back. "I was discussing something of a private nature with a friend, if you don't mind," she said. "It's not my fault if you have an objection to my going to a party." Kurt threw his hands up in the air and left. Michele laughed again. "Way too sensitive, that one," she murmured to herself as she left the kitchen to return to her room to finish unpacking.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~  
  
Kurt didn't speak to her for the next eight days. She tried not to be bothered by it as she immersed herself in her new life. When the prescribed Friday finally came, so did Kurt. He appeared at her bedside that morning with a peace offering- a cinnamon roll from the kitchen. She blinked at him and laughed, accepting the roll. It was still warm. She shared it with him, sitting on her bed, in their sleepwear. Around his mouth, his fur had become sticky with the frosting. She handed him a tissue, and watched him struggle to wipe it off. It made her giggle.  
  
"Come here," she said, grabbing her bedside water bottle and wetting another tissue. She gently wet the fur around his mouth, realizing that the gesture was both incredibly intimate and incredibly romantic. Kurt sat through it. She smiled at him again, a smile that never failed to draw a like response from him. This time, he felt a flutter. He remembered her vision and blushed. She turned to drop the tissue in the wastebasket, and he decided then to take a chance.  
  
So when she sat up, he kissed her cheek in a more than brotherly way. She blushed. "I'm sorry," he said softly, almost whispering.  
  
"It's all right. Everyone has their pet peeves. My cousin just happens to be yours." She tapped the end of his nose. "Overprotective and jealous boys are mine. Don't forget that." She pushed the blanket aside. "I have the extra privilege of a connecting bathroom, so you need to shoo so I can get dressed," she said, standing. He stood too and she saw that she was just eye level with his chin. As he bent his knees in preparation to teleport, she stopped him with a question thrown back over her shoulder. "Kurt, do you believe in love at first sight?"  
  
He was glued to the floor until he realized that she had closed the door between them. He disappeared, leaving behind the faint smell of sulfur and brimstone.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Michele was one of those rare girls who could be ready to go within five minutes of being told she needed to go somewhere. Friday morning was an exception. So when she finally emerged from her room, several of her roommates were struck dumb. Pretty enough without makeup, she knew how to apply it so that it enhanced her natural appearance rather than hiding it. She wore neutrals or pale pinks instead of laboring to stand out. Her hair, normally worn down loose to her shoulders, had been pulled back into a fancy braid. She wore her typical jeans, but instead of a t-shirt, she wore a sweetheart neck, racerback tank top that showed off her freckled shoulders. Sandals were her norm for this warm weather.  
  
She had finally gotten a messenger bag for school, and she had discarded her purse in favor of it. As she hopped into Scott's car for the ride to school, she shivered at a sudden memory of her dreams last night. Kurt draped an arm casually over the back of the seat and up front, Evan leapt over the side, backpack and skateboard in hand. Michele smiled. It had been only the night before when she'd learned everyone's code name. She had refused to choose one for herself, and had laughed at most of the suggestions made, as half of them had been jokes.  
  
She was seriously considering the name Telescope, because her power was used through telescoping her emotions' intensity. The more intense her emotions, the better her power was expressed. Fear caused her to slow molecules down enough to freeze time. Anger, pain and hate caused her to speed up molecules to cause an explosion. Her feeling power was an unexpected byproduct of her powers. She reasoned it was love and happiness that prompted the last effect. Those emotions had to be expressed somehow too, and empathy was a form of sharing one's emotions.  
  
Even after nine days, she had refrained from touching anyone except Evan, Kitty, and Bobby. None of them evoked any response or transfer of memories. She had already touched Scott, three years before, and likewise with Jean Grey. Scott was painful- memories of his parents' death, thinking his brother was dead, inadvertently betraying his friends. But Jean was a neutral. She was afraid to touch Rogue, afraid of the other girl's own power.  
  
So she was fine, emotionally, maybe a little charged about the party that afternoon, but nothing serious. She was glad that Kurt was speaking to her again. The faint flutter in her chest had grown stronger over the previous few days, even with him sullenly silent. Her locker had more pictures in it, and Jake was safely installed at the mansion, still in a coma, but close by.  
  
When they got to the school, Kurt helped her out of the car and they walked up to the school together. Lance, Pietro, Fred, and Todd were waiting for them at their lockers. "Well, we've thought it through, and we've decided to put out differences aside for one night, fuzzy," Pietro said upon spotting them. "You and your friends are invited to the party too." As one, they turned and walked away, though there was some hesitation on Pietro's part. Todd flicked his tongue at them in salute before hopping away. Michele spun her combination and pulled open her locker.  
  
"Oh My God!" she exclaimed. Kurt peered over her shoulder and stared. Jammed inside were a dozen red roses, complete with a card that said simply, An admirer. Beneath those was a sweet looking stuffed bear that was colored white with a pale blue frosting on certain parts of his fur in the shape of flowers. And under that was a little green tin pail filled with candies. Scott, Evan, Rogue, Jean, Kitty, and Alex had walked up by then. They all stared as well. "Well, I never..." Michele began, suddenly finding herself unable to finish a sentence.  
  
"Who sent them?" asked Rogue. Scott passed back the anonymous card Michele had handed him. "Oh." Kurt was still dumbstruck.  
  
"I don't know..." Michele murmured. She got the card back and reattached it to the flowers. The bell rang to tell everyone they had ten minutes to get to class before the tardy bell. Kurt turned and opened his own locker. The others waved and headed off to their own classes. "Kurt, unless someone at the mansion sent them, I am totally at a loss as to why they are in my locker."  
  
"I vish I had thought of it, but I can't think of anyvone who might have done it." He closed his locker and looked at her. He smiled. "I can't say as I don't understand. I do know vhy it vas done, just not by who." He waved and walked away to his first class. At the corner, he turned back and called down the empty hall, "And Michele? Zhe answer is yes. Yes, I do believe." The he ran off, leaving her faced with an answer that created more problems than it solved and a new mystery entirely.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~~  
  
He watched her from the balcony and grinned when she pulled out the bear and looked at it, surprised and confused. Her day was hemmed by free periods, the first one followed by a gym class, then human anatomy, lunch, math, English, choir, and art history. She loved pictures, and found them everywhere to put in her locker. She had managed to get a hold of several past issues of the school paper, some featuring her mutant friends. She pasted all the pictures up in her locker, a circular pattern focused around a picture of a little girl and another of a little boy he knew to be her younger siblings Betony and Jake. She lived at the Institute with Xavier and his X-freaks, but she had no bias towards or away from them either way. And besides, she was too pretty to hate on the off chance that she might be a mutant. She was too pretty to hate at all.  
  
The only thing wrong with her, as far as Pietro Maximoff could determine, was that she seemed to be too romantically attached to the blue elf. Well, he'd just have to fix that. Tonight, at the party, would be the perfect time to talk to her more. Toad had already exhausted everything he knew about his beautiful cousin.  
  
He watched her tuck the bear into her messenger bag along with her science textbook. She closed her locker and headed outside, to their prearranged meeting place. He had this period free, and had invited her to hang out with him several days before. He arrived at the spot, under a large tree, just as she walked out the doors. He waved, and she smiled and waved back.  
  
"Hey," she called, trotting to meet him. He was dying to know what she thought of the surprises in her locker, but he struggled to keep his mouth shut on the subject, unless, of course, she brought it up. "Morning, Pietro. Hey, did you understand that math homework?" He grinned. Math was his best subject, just as art history was hers. They had discovered this and decided to form a sort of scholastic aid alliance.  
  
"Of course I did. But that reading for art history slowed me to a crawl." She smiled and sat, the teddy bear spilling from her bag. He picked it up and handed it back to her. "What's this?"  
  
"Somebody left him in my locker. I think it was put there by mistake, but I also think he's too cute to sit in there all by himself. So I pulled him out. I think...I've decided to call him... silly, really, but I thought that my brother Jake might like him, and since Marshmallow was Jake's kitten... that's what I thought to call him. Even though he doesn't much look like a marshmallow." She stopped and looked up at Pietro, who was watching her closely. "Is that too silly?"  
  
"No!" he rushed to assure her. "I think it's very sweet. So very like you." The breeze blew a few strands of his fine white hair into his eyes, causing her to smile.  
  
"You remind me of my brother when you're trying so hard to drop subtle hints," she said, setting the bear down in her lap. "It was you, wasn't it? You who left the flowers and the candy, and the...and Marshmallow in my locker." He nodded. "I thought it might be. You seem to be able to read my mind sometimes. You knew I was lonely. Thank you." The breeze strengthened, tumbling more hair into his eyes. She smiled and he brushed it back only to have it fall in his face again.  
  
She pulled out her math book and opened it to the page that the homework had come from. "Anyway, I got caught at number thirty-nine." She scooted around to sit next to him and spread the book over their two laps. Pietro started, then relaxed. He could smell the coconut from her shampoo. She ran her finger over the problem. "So what does that mean, the sine of the cosine of x is equal to f of g of x?" she asked, licking her lips. Math confused her to no end. Pietro bludgeoned his mind into cooperation.  
  
"Oh, that? Here, let me see if it helps you to have it in writing."  
  
For the next twelve minutes, they went through her math answers until she understood what she needed to do or what she'd done wrong. "Now how about that history reading?" he asked, pulling out his own textbook. Why do we care the meanings of the words? I mean, there are so many Latin and other languages. Why can't they transfer it into English like sensible people?" She laughed at him and proceeded to explain the importance of some of the other languages and why they were used during certain periods of art. The bell rang just as he finally grasped how to break down the word and try to relate it to a word in the English vocabulary.  
  
From there she went to gym, and he trotted off to literature. She met Kurt and the others for lunch (consisting of what appeared to be reheated pizza and some sort of jello-fruit salad) and went through the rest of the day in a cloud of excitement. After she'd eaten (very little due to the food's appearance), she had pulled out a book to read on her lap. Kurt had held her hand under the tabletop much the way Scott held Jean's hand above the tabletop. When the bell rang, she groaned in disappointment, but she needn't have. School rushed by in the blink of an eye and she was soon waiting by her locker for Kurt, Scott, and Kitty, who was trading places with Evan for the ride home. Kurt sat next to her in the back seat again, holding her hand this time, instead of draping an arm over the seatback. Scott pretended not to notice, just as he had at lunch, but a smile hovered above his mouth.  
  
"Hey," she said to break the silence. "What do you guys think of the code name Telescope? My powers are expressed by telescoping the intensity of my emotions. My decision is between either that or Intensity." Kitty hesitated.  
  
"Well, you've got my vote for Intensity," Scott said.  
  
"I think, like, I have to agree," Kitty said. Kurt nodded his own agreement.  
  
"I like Intensity better too," he said, squeezing her hand.  
  
"Well, I guess it's unanimous, then."  
  
"Well, Intensity, welcome to the X-Men," Scott teased. They all laughed. Conversation picked up after that. They all wanted to know how she was adjusting so far. The previous week she had started morning training sims with the rest of them.  
  
"I found out who put that stuff in my locker," she said during a lull in the conversation. "It was Pietro, amazingly enough. He was trying to cheer me up about my family, and my adjustment." She paused to let it sink in. Kurt's hand tightened on hers and she smiled. She wasn't using his jealousy against him, per say, but it was nice to know that he was jealous.  
  
They pulled up to the mansion just ahead of the others in Jean's SUV. Everyone piled out of the car for a quick change, a quick bite, and then they all hustled back to the two cars for the ride to the party.  
  
It took only twenty minutes to get to the house, but on the ride there, Michele felt the beginnings of a headache. She knew it was going to work itself up into a killer if she didn't stop it now, so she begged some aspirin from Jean.  
  
From the moment they arrived, Kurt was determined to stick to her side like glue. He held her hand as they went in and started to socialize. He was quite the gentleman with her, getting her food and pop and such, but he was also very jealous and very determined to hide that jealousy. On the up side, he prevented Pietro from coming anywhere near her until almost eight thirty. But that was right about the time he had to go to the bathroom.  
  
"Go, silly," she said in a whisper. "No one's going to abduct me. I'll be here when you get back." She squeezed his hand and he smiled- she had seen right through him. He went to the bathroom.  
  
Pietro and Lance took direct advantage of the situation by seating themselves on either side of her. Michele shook her head.  
  
"I was wondering when I was going to see you boys. Here you go, inviting me to a party, and then you never come to say hello," she teased. Her headache was returning, and she couldn't find Jean in the crowd. "Great party, by the way."  
  
"Hey, we're going to the movies tomorrow. Want to come?" Lance asked. She looked at him and shook her head apologetically.  
  
"I'm spending the weekend with my baby sister," she said. Kurt had reappeared and she waved him over. "I'm not even doing anything at the mansion this weekend," she proceeded to explain as Kurt sat down, coincidentally by her feet. He leaned back against her legs. "Maybe next weekend?" Lance nodded and got up with a disgusted glance at Pietro who also got up.  
  
"Thanks for coming. See you!" he said, falsely cheerful.  
  
"Vhat vas zhat all about?" he asked, content to stay put on the floor. She didn't answer for a minute, then she brightened.  
  
"Movies. I think Lance was asking me out," she said. She started to play with his hair, running her fingers through it and combing it back from his face. He grinned, delighted. Her fingers were gentle, and he loved having people play with his hair anyway. She found his hair to be as soft as the rest of his fur, only longer and silkier. It was a treat to be able to just sit quietly with him, sharing a moment, being peaceful. She dreaded going to sleep anymore- the nightmares were getting worse. She shivered suddenly. "Are you cold?" he asked, catching her wrist. He got up and sat next to her on the couch when she nodded. Boldly, he pulled her back into his arms and held her there.  
  
"Not so much that I am cold but that I feel cold, like my insides are turning to ice," she said softly. "My nightmares are like that."  
  
"Nightmares?" he asked, tucking her head under his chin. He felt her shiver again. "About your parents?"  
  
"No. Not entirely, anyway. They just bring a feeling of terror. I wake up in the middle of the night to realize that I've frozen time in my sleep. Not exactly fun." He smoothed some of her hair back from her face. "I'm always glad when it's morning, and not exactly thrilled when it's curfew." He nodded with his chin across the room.  
  
"Vould you like me to ask Scott and Jean if zhey vould mind staying longer?" he asked. Michele shook her head.  
  
"No. I have a headache that refuses to go away. We were going to leave soon anyway." She sat up and he released her, sitting up as well. "Come on, let's go."  
  
"Hey, where you goin, sweet cheeks?" asked a familiar, slimy voice.  
  
"Home," Michele replied, turning away from the door towards her cousin. "Problem with that?" she asked archly.  
  
"Yeah, actually. Friend of mine wants to meet ya." His tongue shot out and wrapped around her wrist. Without even blinking, she froze the room. Gagging at the stench, she unwrapped his tongue from her arm and pulled Kurt after her. The freeze wore off as she reached Scott and Jean at the door.  
  
"Can we go?" she asked. "My head hurts." Jean nodded and left to round up everyone else while Scott and Kurt walked outside to the cars with her. She climbed into the very back of Jean's car, followed by Kurt. Jean and the rest emerged from the house with triumphant looks on their faces. Michele decided she didn't want to know.  
  
The ride home was quiet and uneventful. They all stumbled into the manor and up to their rooms. Michele collapsed onto her bed, throwing one arm over her eyes. She heard the door open and close and the soft creak of someone walking lightly across her floor. She didn't move her hand until the someone sat next to her on the bed. Kurt was dressed only in a pair of cotton sleep pants. His holowatch was gone, and with it, the false appearance it gave him. His eyes faintly glowed and the small nightlight next to the bed did a better job of hiding his features than highlighting them. She sat up slowly and sighed.  
  
"I vanted to say guten nacht," he said quietly. He brushed a finger across her forehead. Her eyes widened slightly.  
  
"Good night, then," she said. She yawned again. "I need a roommate," she muttered, getting up and going into the bathroom. She flipped the switch and pushed at the door, which swung shut, leaving only about two inches of light through. Kurt sat on her bed and listened to her change her clothes, brush her teeth and wash her face. The light flicked off again and she came out. "You're still here," she said, not really surprised. She sat on the bed. "I kind of thought you would be."  
  
"I thought I'd stay until you fell asleep," he said, hiding a yawn of his own. She nodded and sprawled over backwards, pulling her legs up onto the bed. She turned and the light hit her just right, making Kurt's eyes widen. She curled up next him with her head on one pillow and her hands resting on another. He held one of her hands as she murmured her prayers with half-closed eyes. He leaned back against the bookshelf that helped support the bed.  
  
He thought she was almost asleep when he heard her whisper something he didn't quite catch. He leaned down to her and asked her to repeat it. Then a joyful smile spread across his face. He bent even further and pressed his lips to hers. She responded with gentle warmth, molding her lips to his. She sighed happily and he pressed a little harder, slipping on hand behind her head. He felt one of her hands twining in the hair at the base of his neck. His lips curved into a smile as he pulled away. She was asleep. He yawned.  
  
I'll just wait a few minutes more, he thought, still holding her hand. Five minutes later, he was asleep.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Logan pushed open the door quietly; trying not to wake her up until the noise from the opening curtains did so. He stopped dead in the doorway, dumbstruck at the sight that greeted his still sleep-glazed eyes. He stared for so long that he felt Xavier's mind gently prod his.  
  
He twisted to the side to let the other man see what had stopped him. Xavier stared. The two teens were asleep in the same bed, to be sure, but their position was both childishly adorable and intimate at the same time. Michele was covered to the waist in her blankets, her hair disheveled from a night of rough dreams. Kurt clutched her hand, sleeping on top of the blankets with his other arm thrown over her waist. His tail, however, was tossed over her legs, bringing them closer to his own. Their foreheads just touched, their every breath mingling with the other's. Xavier resisted two urges: one to chuckle, the other to wheel himself over to the bed demanding Kurt leave. He obeyed neither and instead had Logan close the door. What did it matter if Michele was a few hours late to visit her sister; Betony would never notice.  
  
Kurt yawned, revealing his sharp teeth. He blinked his eyes open lazily and did a double take. He pulled his head back and looked at Michele, her brown hair messy on the pillow, some of it curling around his wrist. More slowly, he took into account the sleeping position they had occupied most of the night. His tail amused him especially. It had obviously tried its best to wrap itself around her legs, only to be foiled by the blankets. He gently shook her shoulder, waking her. She smiled up at him.  
  
"I was dreaming about you," she said softly. She released his hand and arched up to give him a kiss. Whatever he had been about to say disappeared. He held her face in both his hands as he kissed her gently. She held his forearms and used one of her elbows as leverage to sit up on her knees. They parted and she licked her lips to moisten them. Kurt grinned and leaned towards her again so quickly she didn't have time to register the movement. He took advantage of the fact that her lips were still apart from her licking them and gently forced his own tongue through.. Her eyebrows rose above her closed eyes but she let him kiss her and even shyly kissed him back.  
  
When they pulled apart, the fur around Kurt's neck, cheeks and ears had been stained purple by the blush that was creeping up his face. "And I only meant to say good night," he murmured, his nose touching hers. She smiled and gently pressed a palm to his furry cheek.  
  
"You said it beautifully," she whispered. "I liked the good morning too." Then she paused. "I'm hungry." He laughed at that and got up, rolling off the bed to his feet. "Go put a shirt on and meet me in the dining room," she said. He left with a quick kiss to her temple. She picked up a cardigan and pulled it on, belting the waist before leaving her room.  
  
Kurt beat her to the dining room by teleporting. She had just sat down when Logan and Xavier entered. Both of them shot the pair a look before sitting at their customary seats. Already on the table were cinnamon rolls, pancakes, sausage, eggs, and hot cereal. Michele grabbed a cinnamon roll and poured herself some orange juice. Kurt claimed a little bit of everything.  
  
"So, late night last night, eh?" Logan asked. Kurt almost spat out his food again but Michele interjected.  
  
"Actually, we were home by nine thirty. I had a killer headache though. How about you? What did you bachelors do while us kids were out partying?" Logan paused with a bite halfway to his mouth. Xavier laughed while Logan set down his fork and scowled at her. She merely grinned at him until he smiled back reluctantly.  
  
"Only you, munchkin," he said, shaking his head. He picked up his fork again and continued eating. Kurt sighed in relief and continued to shovel food into his mouth at an unholy rate. "By the way, I'll be the one taking you to see Betony today. I think I'll have one of the others pick you up." She nodded and took a drink of your juice.  
  
"Is Jake any better, Uncle Charles?" she asked. The older man shook his head.  
  
"The same. Don't worry, Michele. Unlike a hospital, we can afford to keep him on the life support for as long as he needs it."  
  
"Thanks." The others were starting to stumble into the dining room, so she grabbed another cinnamon roll. Kurt hadn't said anything since he'd started to eat. She looked at his sideways. Logan caught the look and decided, with his eyes twinkling merrily, that it was time for a little revenge. He turned to Xavier, who nodded and struggled to hide a grin.  
  
"Well, now that everyone is here, there's something I think needs to be talked about. You're all teenagers, some of you older than others. However, that is no excuse for some of you to be sleeping in the same room... no, the same bed as another of the opposite sex." Here, Kurt and Michele spit juice all over the tablecloth. He noted the looks of confusion on some faces and the contorted grimaces from Michele and Kurt. "This is important because should any of you decide to... well, engage in any sexual activity," –here he made them all blush at his frankness- "you will end up not liking the consequences. Are we clear?" Michele swallowed once, then glared at him.  
  
"How much did you enjoy saying that?" she asked him, her face flaming scarlet. "I knew you were there, why didn't you say something?!" Kurt hid his face. Logan's grin didn't fade an iota under the fury of her glare. The others stared for a moment. "You always were a worse embarrassment than my parents," she muttered, stuffing a piece of a roll in her mouth. After she'd swallowed that, she was somewhat calmer. Calm enough to retaliate. "Well, Logan, since we feel like discussing our nightly activities, however innocent mine turn out to be, let's talk about what you did last night." Her grin was feral and merciless. His own faded.  
  
"You wouldn't," he said. She shook her head.  
  
"No, I wouldn't, but see how much the threat that I might scared you?"  
  
"What exactly did you do last night?" Scott asked. It was Kurt that spoke up.  
  
"She vas having nightmares. I accidentally fell asleep in her room after I voke her up to stop her dreams." He took a gulp of his juice. "It really vas an accident."  
  
There was silence for a moment, then Michele pushed back from her seat. "If you're still going to take me, I'll go get dressed," she said to Logan, who nodded. She left the room and conversation started back up again gradually.  
  
She reappeared a few minutes later wearing jeans, a t-shirt, a pair of tennies, and carrying her messenger bag. Logan wiped his mouth and got up. He took his dishes to the kitchen and was rinsing them off when Kurt appeared for the same reason. Logan scowled down at him and jerked his thumb at the door. "Go say goodbye to her, then come back and do this." He shook his head as the boy ran out the door, his tail trailing behind him like a flag.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~  
  
She was sitting on Logan's motorcycle, the blue one, when he got to the garage. She looked up and smiled at him. "It was an accident," she said. "But not necessarily a bad one." He returned her smile. "He told you to come bid me farewell, didn't he?" She waited for his nod. "Logan...he's so versatile. Anyway, I'll be back tomorrow, Monday at the latest, and it's not like I'll be that far away. I'm only going to be across town, at my aunt's."  
  
"All right, beat it, elf. We've got to go." Kurt hugged her and ran back into the house as the motorcycle roared out of the driveway.  
  
They didn't talk along the way. He drove, she concentrated on not falling off. Even at his speed, it took over an hour to get to her aunt's house. Logan dropped her off at the curb and waited until she was on the porch before roaring off again. She knocked and heard a baby scream inside. Her aunt came to the door, wiping her hands on a towel. Betony's curly head peered at her from behind the woman's legs.  
  
"Hey, Bet. It's me." She held open her arms. The small girl stuck a fist in her mouth and backed away. "Auntie, what's wrong with her?" The baby continued to back away until she reached the hall, where she turned and fled. Michele was too confused to be suspicious. She entered the house. "I don't understand. Why is she suddenly afraid of me?" Her aunt still refused to speak, wiping her hands methodically on a towel. Michele put her bag down next to the door and walked down the hall after her baby sister. The door was closed and locked behind her, but she didn't notice. She was too focused on Betony. "Betony, come here, Baby, I won't hurt you," she cooed, walking into the seemingly empty kitchen with her arms outstretched.  
  
A cloth bag was dropped over her head and she was hit over the back of her skull before she could even call upon her power. The last thought she had before blacking out was that she had made a grave miscalculation in the placement of her trust.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Xavier was watching the others lounge about in the pool when the blast of pain and betrayal hit him like a sledgehammer to the head. He collapsed forward in his chair, groaning in pain. As swiftly as it was there, it ended and he sat up straighter.  
  
"Professor?" Scott asked, surprised.  
  
"It's Michele. She's been... attacked." Kurt launched himself out of the water.  
  
"She's been what?" Scott asked. "Attacked by what?"  
  
"I don't know. I got a single hit... pain and betrayal. The pain was physical. I think she was clubbed over the head to keep her from using her powers. The betrayal...I don't know."  
  
"Ve have to... after her!" Kurt exclaimed.  
  
"Not until we know what's going on," Xavier retorted firmly. "I will not have anyone else putting theirs and her lives at risk in an attempt to rescue her. We'll wait until she wakes up." His students were hot for action, he knew. "Until we know enough, suit up and run the captured member rescue sequence. I'll try to contact Logan." As they rushed off, he wheeled himself into the mansion's large library. Logan! Logan, where are you? Michele's been kidnapped!  
  
Impossible, came the faint response. I just left her at her aunt's. She was fine then.  
  
Well, something happened to her that wasn't supposed to. We're cooking up a sim now to rescue her, but until we know more... we can't really do anything.  
  
I'm on my way back now.  
  
Xavier leaned heavily on the arm of his wheelchair and glanced up at the picture of his best friend. "We'll find her, Terry. I promise you."  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~  
  
Michele was angry. And she had a headache. And she was bound hand and foot with a potato sack tied over her head. She was also terrified, but not for herself. What had happened to Betony? She moaned at the pain that shot up through her shoulders when she tried to move. There was something heavy in her lap.  
  
It moved, and she nearly screamed. It moved again and let out a little whimper. "Scared," came the tiny voice of her equally tiny baby sister. "Hungry." Michele swallowed down her surprise.  
  
"Bet?" she whispered. "Betony?" The potato sack lifted as the curious child tried to see if it really was her big sister. "Oh, honey," she whispered, not having much in her more than a whisper. "Betony, can you untie me? Remember the knots Jake and I were teaching you? Can you untie the string on my hands?"  
  
"Ropes hurt me..." she began, sticking out her bottom lip in a pout. She held up her own wrists in evidence. "Ropes hurt you?" she asked in that childishly innocent way. Michele nodded. "Good." Betony pushed back and as she did, she began to change and to grow. She stopped at three feet, still Betony, but her skin was slightly bluish. Then it continued and soon in place of her sister stood a woman, tall and pale. Then it shifted again until it was a man with dark green streaks in his blond hair. He was stark naked. "Oh, do I embarrass you?" he asked. "So sorry." There was a slurping sound and his flesh rippled. When he kneeled in front of her and lifted her chin with a furry hand, she gasped. He fastened brutal lips over hers and kissed her hard. She tried valiantly to pull out of his grip, but she was fetched up against a wall. He pulled back and licked his lips.  
  
"Now I know what the boy sees in you," he said, his yellow eyes flitting over her face. "You taste like cinnamon." He licked his lips again and she closed her eyes, feathery lashes keeping the tears in. "Oh, no, my dear. I am not finished with you yet. Look at me." She opened her eyes and the room froze. But he didn't. "Ah, perfect. More time now, for me to spend with you." The breeze resumed. He clicked his tongue against his teeth. "Child, beautiful girl, you are mine now. Mine to do with what I wish. What I wish right now is for you to remain tied. Should you please me by returning my kiss, I will you're your physical pain."  
  
"A-all right," she murmured, her lower lip quivering. He shook his head.  
  
"You will do well in my care," he said. He knelt, then pressed her hard up against the wall. She grunted as pain shot up her neck. His thighs straddled her and his muscular chest pressed the cold brick of the wall into her bare arms. His mouth fell with bruising force on hers and her head slammed back into the wall, causing her vision to go grey for a quick moment. His tongue was pressing insistently at her closed mouth and she reluctantly allowed it to open. He darted in and swiped his tongue across her mouth, moaning excitedly at the pleasure of the contact. She struggled not to gag and hesitantly brushed her tongue against his, trying hard not to shiver in disgust. He pulled away and laughed. "Well played, my girl. Well played indeed. Your bonds are undone." The ropes disappeared into thin air and she slumped to the floor in relief, her arms uncramping slowly as they returned to their natural position.  
  
She was cold, and she was in a damp room made of brick. She was no longer in Bayville, that much was obvious. "Where am I?" she asked.  
  
"No, my pet. No questions yet. First, we must get to know each other better." He sat down in front of her and yanked open the button-down tank she was wearing, spraying buttons everywhere. He pulled it down her numb and tingling arms, then threw it in a corner. "Yes, much better. You wear too many layers, my pet. I like to see as little cloth between me and the object of my desire as possible." He paused and tilted his head to the side. "You have quite lovely breasts." She gasped in outrage and glared at him, which only made him laugh. "It is quite true. Hasn't that boy told you so yet?"  
  
"To whom are you referring?" she asked slowly.  
  
"Why that boy, Nightcrawler. Who else?"  
  
"No, he hasn't. He hasn't been looking."  
  
"Oh? But I'm sure he has. I'm sure he has. How could he not?"  
  
"I don't see as how that is your prerogative," she snapped, biting her bottom lip to stop its quivering. "Please, could you just tell me where I am?"  
  
"All right, pet," he sighed, suddenly bored with the taunting game. "I'll give you two questions. Ask anything and I will give you an honest answer. But only two."  
  
"Where is my baby sister, Betony?"  
  
"Betony Anne Madison died of smoke inhalation and asphyxiation on September the second of this year. Six days after you rescued her from the fire. As a bonus, I will tell you that your brother is real enough, though he won't last much longer; the hospital can't afford to keep him on life support much longer." Michele hid her smile. "Your second question?"  
  
"Where am I?"  
  
"You are in my home, a small house out in the middle of nowhere. We are exactly twenty-five miles from the nearest form of any civilization, any direction you go. Your questions are answered and it is night. Time for sleeping." He turned and left the room, climbing a creaking set of stairs.  
  
Uncle Charles? She called tentatively. Can you hear me? Please... I need help!  
  
Uncle Charles? Can you hear me? Please... I need help!  
  
The telepathic plea echoed around the room as an audible shout. Xavier put Cerebro's helmet on his head and turned down the power. It was now a repeating statement the volume of a normal conversation. The others gathered around the computer screen where the telepathic messages were displayed as text.  
  
Michele?  
  
I'm here?  
  
Where is here?  
  
He said it was exactly twenty-five miles from any civilization. It's a brick house out in the middle of the woods, if that helps.  
  
Not really.  
  
Sorry, that's all I was allowed to ask.  
  
By whom?  
  
The man or thing that kidnapped me. Apparently, I am a prize. He seems content merely to torture me by shapeshifting into people I love and doing cruel things to me in their bodies. There was a long pause. Uncle Charles, I'm so scared. He says I have to sleep now, but I can't and he probably knows it. If I'm exhausted, I can't fight back, especially if his ultimate goal is to break my mind.  
  
Oh, my dear child.  
  
He's not very clever, just very determined. He...  
  
What has he done to you!? Xavier roared through his power.  
  
I... He read it in her thoughts, the thoughts she couldn't hide from him.  
  
Oh no. No no no no no no no no no no. Oh, my poor dear girl, no. He exercised all his self control to keep the helmet intact, to keep himself connected to her mind, for her benefit and strength. The tracking system on Cerebro had been damaged and Scott, Storm and Kitty raced to fix it. Soon, dear girl. Soon, we'll have a lock on your location, and then we'll come and get you.  
  
He's coming back. Let me go.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
He wasn't really, but she would make him. So she began to shout as one gone mad. "You can't keep me here!" she screamed. "You'll never get away with it!" He pounded down the stairs and ran into the room with a crash, where he fell upon her legs, knocking her to the floor. The wind rushed from her lungs.  
  
"I have patience, but if you force my hand, I will use you before I break you!" Her voice stuck in her throat and a fear bubble smothered her rational thought for a long moment.  
  
"What do you want with me?" she asked, feigning terror. Her anger made her voice tremble convincingly. Her arms were pinned to her sides by his weight.  
  
"I want Nightcrawler to know that it was me that took his love away. I want his heart to bleed, I want him to break. I am the one with the power. Not him! ME!" She gasped in relief as he sat up, straddling only her hips now. He uttered a sound remarkably like a purr as he trailed one blue finger down her neck over her shoulder. "You are beautiful. Mine, not his!" She closed her eyes, finally having it figured out. His fingers on her skin felt so familiar, and brought a flush of loving warmth to her skin. His purr intensified.  
  
Her eyes snapped open. My choice, she realized. I can live to my name, or I can wait and let Kurt deal with this rival. I am the one with the power here. Her eyes filled with tears when she made her choice. She lifted a hand, delicately trailing it along his furry thigh, her eyes half-closed. He had frozen in place and was watching her hand with something akin to innocent delight in his eyes. She lifted her hand from his thigh and moved it to his chest, swallowing hard, her eyes sliding all the way closed as her fingers felt their way up the muscular chest. His purr grew louder and she opened her eyes to find his fixed on her face.  
  
"You can't take someone by force, you know," she whispered. "It isn't polite." He appeared shy now and she felt all the pieces click into place. Magneto's genetic experiments had resulted in a clone. A clone that went mad when it was abandoned as a failure. A failure when compared to the original. His lips drew back from his teeth and he licked them once. "You must be gentle..." She slid her hands to either side of his face, a face she loved. She drew that face down to her and kissed his forehead before pulling him down farther to rest against her. His arms lifted shyly to her shoulders and she giggled at the soft contact. He raised his head and she petted a hand along his forehead, smoothing his hair out of his eyes just as she'd done the night before with Kurt.  
  
"Can I kiss you?" he asked softly this time. She nodded and he lowered his face to hers, no longer demanding but gentle and sweet. His tongue was tucked away in his mouth, almost as if her were afraid to let it out, as though it might betray him and scare her again. She pulled on his ears, tugging him closer. They rolled until he was lying on his back on the floor with her settled over his hips. His arms drifted from her shoulders down to her hips and he held on as she pressed him into the floor. This time, she was teaching him, and the lesson set him on fire with a new feeling, strange, like ice and fire warring in his stomach. Her mouth opened the tiniest bit and the tip of her hot, wet tongue tickled his soft lips. He opened under her pressure and her lips widened. Their tongue met gently, then more urgently, and his hands started sliding frantically up and down her bare sides. She shivered and released his mouth when his hands gently caressed her midriff.  
  
He stared up at her, his eyes unfocused. Tears began to drip from her chin. Oh, Kurt. I'm so sorry. Innocently, he lifted his head up and licked the salt from her chin, causing her to giggle through the tears. "Do you love him?" he asked quietly. "Him that looks like me?" She leaned down to rest her head against his chest and listened to his heartbeat. His strong arms encircled her and held her close. She continued to cry silently into his fur. "Do you love him?" he asked again, and this time she nodded. "I am him. Do you love me?" She nodded again, but sat up within the circle of his arms.  
  
"It is different. I am sorry for you, maybe even angry at you, but you could never be my enemy, for you are part of him." He wiped a tear off on his thumb and stared at it.  
  
"I wanted you because he had you," he said haltingly. "Because you were his, I was determined to make you mine. I did not want to cause you pain." He lifted her off his hips effortlessly and set her on the floor. Then he crawled to the corner and retrieved her shirt. "I'm sorry." He handed it to her and she put it on, taking a strip torn from the potato sack to tie it closed. "I will take you home now."  
  
She put a hand on his slumped shoulder. "What is your name?"  
  
"He is Nightcrawler. I am Daywalker." She put a hand under his chin and lifted it.  
  
"You are his brother," she said firmly. "You are his brother." He smiled warmly, straightened and took her hand. Without hesitation, she followed him up the stairs into the kitchen where she'd been attacked. He led her out through the garage, to a motorcycle. He climbed on and made sure she was seated right behind him before he gunned the motor and drove off down the street.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~~  
  
"One more wire, Professor," called Scott from his hanging position under Cerebro's causeway. There was a spark and a yelp and Jean mentally haled Scott back up onto the platform. Kurt crawled back up after him.  
  
"Good, you got it working. Now, to see if we can-" He was interrupted by the machine's female voice.  
  
"New mutant signature detected. Identity confirmed. Name, Daywalker. Location, ten meters straight up." They all froze. Silence echoed. Through even the thick steel and concrete, Logan's enhanced senses served him well.  
  
"She's here!" he whispered.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~  
  
Kurt teleported straight through several rooms before he found her. She was in the library, holding the hand of a scantily clad...That's me!  
  
She turned and jumped. "Kurt," she breathed. The blue hand she was holding fell away as she leapt across the room at him. "Oh, Kurt."  
  
"You said it vould only be two days," he choked, sobs rising in his throat. "Only two days!"  
  
"I'm so sorry," she said, kissing his cheek before hugging him close. "I didn't mean for it to happen." She released him and turned to the creature she'd been leading. She held out a hand. "Daywalker, this is your brother. This is Nightcrawler."  
  
They stared at each other. Kurt extended a hand. "Welcome, brother," he said.  
  
Their hands clasped warmly, and Michele, a smile on her face, collapsed in a dead faint, her power exhausted from the concentrated effort of holding on to her empathy.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~  
  
She woke up to sunshine and fresh air, with birdsong coming into her room through the windows. Xavier was the only person sitting by her bed, but somehow, she had expected it. Her hand rested in one of his.  
  
"That was an incredible thing you did, Intensity," he said. "Using your outlet for love, letting your compassion magnify and multiply until you could shroud yourself in it. Your power continues to impress me."  
  
"Thank you, Uncle Charles." She rubbed her eyes with her free hand. "How long have I been asleep?"  
  
"After such a concentrated, prolonged use of your power, you deserve to have slept for a month. As it is, you've been gone for two weeks. We put you on an IV." He smoothed her hair back with his other hand. "Daywalker is healing as well. He is learning to create his own shadow, rather than live in his host's. Yes, dear, I know he is a genetic clone."  
  
"Where's Kurt?"  
  
"In his room with his brother, waiting for you to wake up. I believe that the others have enjoyed teaching him how to dress and eat properly, though Logan despairs of ever teaching him proper manners. He is a shapeshifter, much like Mystique. She was, after all, his mother too." She sat up and saw that she'd been washed and changed into her standard sleepwear.  
  
"I need to talk to him," she said. Xavier backed up and allowed her to run out of the room. She arrived at Kurt's room with a pain in her side, but gloriously free form other pain. She knocked. Kurt opened the door with his holowatch turned on and without a shirt. She blinked. "Kurt?" He smiled shyly and she looked past him to the blue fuzzy sitting on the bed with shorts on, his tail whipping back and forth. His eyes bore into hers and she smiled. She placed a hand on the holowatch, turning it off. "Would you excuse us, please?" she said. He nodded, turned the hologram back on and left.  
  
"You're awake," Kurt said, sliding his feet off the edge of his bed. "For the longest time, we thought you were gone for good." He paused as she sat next to him on the bed, staring at her hands. "Your brother's awake, but he's really weak." She sat very still, head bowed. He lifted her face, distressed at her silence. "What's wrong?"  
  
"I... need to tell you what I did. What happened between me and your...brother." He put a finger to her lips and kissed her forehead.  
  
"He told me. After the Professor touched his mind and mended it, he told me what he'd done... what you had done to help him. You taught him gentleness, compassion and love." His lips quirked into a wry grin. "He also told me you could teach me a thing or two about a good kiss." That startled a laugh from her.  
  
"Maybe I could."  
  
"He also told me that you were true. Whatever that means."  
  
"It means I was honest with myself and honest with him."  
  
"You were?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Hey, how about that kiss?"  
  
"Maybe for your birthday," she teased. He smiled in return.  
  
"Well, since my birthday's next week, can't you give me a present early?" he asked, putting a hand on her shoulder. She tilted her face up to him and pressed her lips gently against his. He pulled her into his lap and tangled a hand in her hair, tilting her head back. He pulled away and looked down at her. "So how did you get him to read his own heart?"  
  
"By telescoping the intensity of my own," she replied before shoving him onto his back on the bed and leaning over him for a real kiss. 


End file.
